


Only Built to Kill

by orphan_account



Series: Overwatch Drabble [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gen, He L p, I have a lot of bad kin memories, Robots with ptsd, Self harm implied sorta, Zenyatta is only mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 08:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8155259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: ITS TOO EARLY FOR THIS HELP





	

The room was dim and chilly; the sound of crickets chirping quietly outside could be heard due to the open window. The night sky glared down, letting the only light on the room shine brightly. A holographic map of Eichenwalde, flickering faintly. Bastion stood in front of it, starting contently and pondering it's purpose. 

A party was going on without them in another room, recently their team had succeeded in several missions. Bastion didn't enjoy it. They absolutely despised using their gun for any purpose, so instead of celebrating, they chose to reflect on other events. All they could think about was violence and chaos. Zenyatta had helped Bastion recover greatly since joining Overwatch, but even that couldn't keep their mind off of it. 

Where was everyone, anyway? The sounds of the party had been silenced from existence hours ago; had they all gone to sleep? If they panicked, would anyone even hear their calls for help? Bastion had a racing mind, one of the disadvantages of having sentience. To Bastion, that seemed like the only thing that made them different from other omnics of their kind. They were built to kill. The gun they wielded was meant to be used. Why are you such a coward, hiding in the dark? How can you think about feelings if you don't have any?

Bastion made a distressed beep, trying to keep their optic away from the gun. They focused on the map, looking at the labeled city of Stuttgart. It had a red marker above it reading “FAILED OBJECTIVE.” How long ago was this? How long have they been left for dead, only to discover tens of dead omnics?

They angrily placed a hand on their gun, pressing hard into the metal. Their anger increased as did their strength. The gun started to dent under the pressure. Bastion’s hand wrapped around it, pulling on it, as if they were trying to rip it clean off. Wires started disconnecting, Bastion lost control of the gun. Footsteps were heard faintly in the hall. Bastion beeped loudly, pulling as hard as they could. 

The door swung open, just as the gun was torn off, letting sparks spray out of the broken machinery. Genji stood dumbfounded in the doorway. His mask was off, revealing a horrified facial expression. Bastion made eye contact briefly, before turning away and throwing the gun at the wall.

Genji approached, putting his cybernetic hand on Bastion's shoulder.

“01001001 00100000 01100100 01101111 01101110 00100111 01110100 00100000 01110111 01100001 01101110 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01101000 01110101 01110010 01110100 00100000 01100001 01101110 01111001 01101101 01101111 01110010 01100101 00101110”

I don't want to hurt anymore.


End file.
